


As soon as I heard (the internet is a terrible thing)

by MiriRainbowitz



Series: those were our wives (who decided to fuck) [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, momentary cameo by Adrienne de Lafayette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriRainbowitz/pseuds/MiriRainbowitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander isn't the one who has an affair, but Angelica still comes as soon as she hears about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A torrid affair

**Author's Note:**

> 1- I have only credited El as a horrible enabler once before, but they've enabled like half of my shit, so thanks. Also, when I asked them whether I should write an actual birthday fic or angst, they were the one who suggested angst.
> 
> 2- I'm casting Alexis Johnson, Renee's actual real-life husband, as John Church, Angelica's husband. 
> 
> 3- Angelica had 4 (?) kids, but since their birthdays (or, for that matter, some of their names) are not readily available, in this universe, Angelica and John have two kids, who are about 4 and 6.
> 
> 4- This is set a while (a few weeks/months) after the affair ends. I'm not sure, atm, how or why the affair goes public, but it does.
> 
> 5- HAPPY 261ST (OR 259TH) BIRTHDAY ALEXANDER!
> 
> 6- This fic happens a few days after "Nobody needs to know." In terms of timing, the fic starts on Saturday morning in England, and Angelica arrives in the US on Sunday morning in DC.

Angelica is just getting up when her phone dings, and she turns it on to see a notification of her Twitter highlights. She’s about to swipe it away when she sees the word “Eliza” on one of the tweets, and she’s quickly unlocking her phone.

The tweet is from Al Jazeera America, and it says, “Eliza Hamilton’s affair with another married woman”, followed by a link to the article, and Angelica can only stare at her phone in shock. She doesn’t click on it – she can’t. Her hands – hell, her whole body – is frozen in shock, and she feels like the ground is crumbling beneath her feet.

Beside her, John stirs. “Darling?” he asks, his voice husky with sleep. “Is everything okay?” He lays a hand on her shoulder, and she feels just a little bit better. John Church was nowhere near as brilliant as Alexander, but he respected her and loved her and always knew how to ground her, and right now, she’s immensely grateful for that.

“I…” she trails off. She should tell him, but there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to, that insists – irrationally – that if she doesn’t tell him, maybe none of this would be real. Maybe Eliza – her _sister_ , who is sweet and kind and _loyal_ – wouldn’t have had an affair with another married woman.

In the end, she hands him the phone. It’s silent as he reads – is he reading the article? – then he hands it back to her.

“I think – I need to go back. Home,” she says, but _home_ isn’t accurate. Home is New York City, and the Hamiltons are living in DC now. Home is Eliza and Alexander being utterly in love with each other, not Eliza cheating on her husband of over 10 years. Home is gone, for who knows how long.

“How long?” asks John.

“I don’t know,” she murmurs back. “I’ll – I’ll see what everything is like when I get there, I’ll – let’s not tell Philip and Kitty. They’re too young, and it’s not like this will be news in England.” _They’re the same age as Alex Jr and James_ , she thinks. _And they’re too young, but everyone will be talking about this in America._

She gets up and goes and gets a suitcase from the attic. Philip and Kitty should still be asleep, but not for much longer, so she’s quiet as she starts packing, getting all her clothes and toiletries and technology into her luggage and carry-ons. It’s only as once she’s all packed and the kids are stirring that she remembers that she hasn’t actually purchased a ticket yet.

John walks into the bedroom, holding a piece of paper. “Bought your ticket,” he says, and she kisses him. “I figured you’d forget about that.”

“I love you,” she says in response. “When’s the flight?”

“In the evening, unfortunately,” he says. “ Leaves at 8 pm, gets to BWI at around 8 am, so you’re free to spend the day getting stuff done.”

Angelica can feel herself sag, but mostly internally. There’s an itch in her lower back, an itch that means that she’ll be a jittery mess every second that she’s not in DC, and she knows that being extraordinarily busy is gonna be the only thing that’ll get her through the next 24-ish hours without exploding.

“Hey,” says John, coming over and pulling her into a hug. “Call me if you need _anything_.”

The itch lessens slightly. “I will,” she replies. In the meantime, there’s a ton of stuff she has to do.

 

Angelica finished one article and wrote another, sent both off, sent out countless emails to most of the news sites she writes for and tells them that a family situation came up so she’ll be going back to the US for an indefinite period of time (don’t worry, it’ll probably be short and she’ll bring her laptop with her anyway), and still has time to go out with Adrienne for lunch, and eat dinner with John and the kids before she has to go to the airport. As far as she can tell, no one aside from John _knows_ – knows what happened, knows that she is not nearly as calm and collected and careless as she appears – and it’s good. People will make a big deal out of it in the US, anyway, so she’ll take the lack of knowledge as a blessing right now.

She used to be clumsy, as a kid, and one time, when she was pretty young, she’d accidentally knocked over a very old, very expensive gift vase, and it had shattered into pieces. She’d tried to put it back together, through her tears, and it was a miracle she hadn’t cut herself when her father found her. He’d swept up the pieces – apparently, he’d never liked that vase anyway – and as a punishment, she’d had to write an apology to the people who’d given them the vase in the first place. She feels like that little child again, scrambling to put the shattered vase of Alexander and Eliza’s marriage back together, but this time, her fingers are bleeding and no one’s there to sweep up the pieces.

One of the fragments – a memory, from about 15 years ago – surfaces. Alexander had just started dating Eliza, and one day, when he’d been invited over to their house, she’d gotten Alexander alone in a room. That day, she’d told him that she knew Eliza like she knew her own mind, and, well, gave him the shovel talk.

But she apparently didn’t know her sister all that well, did she? Because she _never_ would have suspected, not in a billion years, that Eliza would be unfaithful. If anything, she’d thought that would be _Alexander_ – but, as he’d vehemently told her, being bisexual didn’t mean he’d be a cheater.

And god, how was Alexander holding up? Were he and Eliza even talking to each other? Would they divorce each other? No, they probably wouldn’t – Alexander was very opinionated on children growing up without a father – but did he have anyone to go to? To talk to? To cry to? Why hadn’t he told her? Maybe he’d wanted to keep it a secret, but Angelica wasn’t sure. She hadn’t actually read the article, she didn’t know how, or why, the affair had gone public, but she was still his sister-in-law and close friend, and it’s not like she would have _told_ anyone...

Who should she go to first, when she got to DC? Alexander, who _had_ to be in pain, who was basically her platonic and intellectual soulmate, who’d just been _cheated_ on by his wife of over a decade? Or her sister, her beloved Eliza, who’d had an affair and had ruined her marriage to Alexander, but who was probably still also suffering because of that, who was probably very lonely and had no one else in her corner?

How, _how_ , had the world turned so upside down?


	2. all the way from London

Angelica tries to sleep, she really does, but after an hour or so of fitful dozing, she gives up on sleep and settles in with her increasingly frenzied thoughts. First up, her curiosity – what had actually happened? She googles “Eliza Hamilton”, and several news articles pop up, all of them explaining Eliza had had a few-month-long affair with a woman named Maria Reynolds, and that Maria’s husband James had leaked some of the details of the affair when neither Alexander nor Eliza had paid him any blackmail money.

Still, Angelica’s curiosity isn’t satisfied. None of the articles mention how either Alexander or Eliza or the Hamilton kids are doing, or why the affair had even started in the first place, or anything Angelica wants – no, _needs_ – to know. The questions swirl through her mind, unanswerable at the moment, but not allowing her to concentrate on anything else.

Angelica just doesn’t know what to do. If it had been _Alexander_ … well, America would have to find a new Treasury Secretary, after Angelica was done with Alexander, but it wasn’t him, it was _Eliza_. If it had been Alexander, Angelica would feel no qualms about rushing to her sister to comfort her, but how would people take it if she did that? Would Alexander feel betrayed by what could easily be interpreted as a lack of support? Would Eliza feel vindicated in her actions? The paparazzi would have a field day with her even coming back, no matter who she saw first. What was Angelica supposed to do?

The questions plague her all night, and a few minutes before the plane lands, Angelica realizes she’ll probably have to go visit Eliza first, if only because she has no clue where Alexander even is. If he’s at work – well, she can’t just walk into the White House – and if he’s not at work, she has no idea where he would be. Besides, she should probably hear Eliza’s version of the whole story – it’s so unlike her sister, and she feels like it might help shed some light on _why_ Eliza had done this.

Angelica gets some coffee from an airport Starbucks after she gets off the plane – she’ll need if, if she wants to stay awake – and once she gets her luggage, she gets a cab and heads to the Hamilton’s house. It’s about 8:30 now, so there’s a chance Eliza might be at home instead of at church with the kids.

When she gets to the house, Eliza’s minivan is there but Alexander’s car isn’t. Angelica tips and pays the driver and gets her luggage from the trunk before walking up to the front door.

She knocks, and a few seconds later, Eliza opens the door, holding John in her arms. She seems to be taken aback by the sight of Angelica, standing there silently with her mouth open. Angelica, however, is struck by how Eliza looks – pale and exhausted, with tear-reddened eyes, and even though Angelica is kind of angry at Eliza, her heart still hurts at the sight.

“Angelica?” Eliza asks, her voice cracking, and that breaks Angelica’s observation. “Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?” Angelica replies. “I wanted to – talk to you.” _To try to understand what you were thinking._

“Oh. Oh, sorry, come on in,” Eliza says, stepping back to let Angelica enter. “I decided to not go to church today, so all the kids are sleeping.” As she’s talking, she starts heading up the stairs, and Angelica follows.

“How long are you staying?” Eliza asks. 

“I packed for a week,” Angelica says. “I assume your guest room is open?”

Eliza actually stops walking, and Angelica almost bumps into her. “Not – really,” Eliza says eventually. “I’ve been sleeping there, but you can have the master bedroom – it’s not like anyone’s using it.”

Angelica feels a chill at Eliza’s words. The bed in the guest bedroom is only big enough for one person, so if Alexander was sleeping at home, he would have had to use the master bedroom. “Not even Alexander?”

“He’s – staying with John Laurens,” Eliza replies. “He’s – taken most of his stuff, so you have plenty of room to unpack. Anyway, I’ll just – let you unpack. I’m gonna make breakfast.” Before she’s even finished speaking, Eliza is already walking away, and Angelica slowly walks into the bedroom.

She pulls out her phone and sends John a text. _Situation worse than I thought. Might take longer than a week._ Once she’s sent it, she sits down on the bed and sighs. Fixing this is going to be a lot harder than she’d thought.

 

Despite the tension between Angelica and Eliza, breakfast actually went pretty well. Despite Eliza’s emotional state, the food was delicious, and Angelica was just as excited to see the children as they were to see her. They obviously still hadn’t heard, but a small part of Angelica knew that that would have to end pretty soon.

It’s about 11 when Angelica can finally talk to Eliza alone. Everyone is ushered outside to play except John, who’s napping. Angelica and Eliza go to the guest room.

“So – what _happened_ , Eliza?” Angelica asks.

“I…” Eliza starts. “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Start from the beginning,” Angelica replies. “Who’s Maria Reynolds?”

“I met her a few months ago,” Eliza says. “She came in – she was a walk-in – we had an appointment. She flirted with me.”

“And you let her?” Angelica asks.

“It felt nice,” Eliza replies. “Someone being interested in me.”

“I’d say Alexander is interested in you,” Angelica says. “You do have 5 kids.”

“And _I’d_ say Alexander and I haven’t had sex since before the last one was even born,” Eliza snaps. “I’d say Alexander barely ever came home or slept in the same bed as me. I’d say that I was sick and tired of being lonely because I married a workaholic.”

“So you jumped into bed with the first person who flirted with you,” Angelica says. “You didn’t think to talk about this to anyone. Eliza…” Angelica trails off. “You could have talked to Alexander, or to me, or anyone about this. You know that.”

Eliza stares at her, like she hadn’t even considered that idea before. “Actually, I guess – I didn’t know that,” she eventually says. “All I could think was that I was attracted to Maria, she was attracted to me, and I was angry that Alexander said he was going to spend another night at work, so I didn’t say no to her.”

“And why didn’t you stop?” Angelica asks.

“Because it felt good,” Eliza replies. “Having sex felt good, sharing a bed with someone felt good, and keeping a secret like that felt really good.”

“Good enough that it was worth breaking Alexander’s heart?” Angelica snaps.

“No,” Eliza says. “No, it wasn’t worth that, but I didn’t think – I didn’t think Alexander would ever know.”

“So if he hadn’t learned about, you’d still be sleeping with Maria Reynolds?”

“Yes,” Eliza says, and Angelica feels like she’s been sucker-punched. “Angelica, put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn’t you do the same thing?”

“ _No_ ,” Angelica says. “If things weren’t working between me and John, I’d sit down and _talk_ with him, not _cheat_ on him! I – I came here to see if I could _fix_ this – you and Alexander – but if this is what you’re actually thinking, I don’t think _anything_ can fix this!”

To Angelica’s surprise, Eliza starts crying. “I know,” she says. “That’s what I’m _terrified_ of, because Alexander doesn’t _talk_ to me anymore, and he’s staying with John and I know they dated in college, and everyone’s going to hate me and talk about me and it’s all my fault!”

“Hey, hey, Eliza,” Angelica says as she pulls her into a hug. “You’ve got me, okay? You’ve got me, and I may be angry at you but I’m still here for you, okay?”

Eliza doesn’t reply, because she’s too busy crying. Angelica strokes her back, but her mind is busy, trying to figure out what the hell she’s gonna do next.


End file.
